


Black Velvet

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, F/F, Fluff, Pre-Slash, Sexual Tension, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 13:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20761292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Morgana puts Gwen in one of her dresses.





	Black Velvet

Gwen smiled as she picked the dress up, taking a moment to admire the fine lace and the feel of lush velvet against her skin. Despite being able to practically navigate the place in her sleep, she still hadn’t quite accustomed to all the finery of the castle. Of course, she was hardly the wonderstruck girl she’d once been – back when entering the castle for the first time (even through the servant’s entrance) had nearly taken her breath away, when just the idea of being _this close _to the glamour of court and the Prince and the bloody _King _had made her want to knock her head against the nearest wall just to check she wasn’t dreaming.

On that first day, Gwen had been so rattled before she’d even stepped into Morgana’s chambers that she was surprised she’d managed to get just her name out to introduce herself. But Morgana had merely smiled (a soft quirk of her lips that made Gwen’s heart squeeze a little, even then), charming as could be, and said she was excited to get to know her better.

Goosebumps pricked her skin as a chilly breeze slipped through the open window. Night had fallen, and the air was ripe with the bitter cold of winter. Gwen finished smoothing out the last wrinkles in the dress and slipped it carefully over her arm, hurrying to shut the windows.

Morgana was sitting at her dressing table, her neck still laden with jewellery from the evening’s festivities as she disdainfully eyed a bracelet she’d been given by some lord. Gwen smiled at her in the mirror as she passed.

“You looked magnificent tonight, my lady,” Gwen said, as she moved from the windows to the wardrobe. Morgana looked up and smiled back, a gentle look in her eyes.

“Thank you, Gwen. But it was mostly your doing, of course.”

Gwen laughed. “I just brushed your hair and dressed you, is all. Your beauty speaks for itself.”

Gwen bit her lip in embarrassment, wondering if she’d been too forward. She’d spoken without thinking once again. She’d only been in Morgana’s service year half a year, and whilst Gwen _knew _her and Morgana’s relationship had pushed beyond the boundaries of formality months ago, she couldn’t help but fear Morgana might’ve noticed her long looks and lingering touches for what they really were.

“I could say the same to you.” Morgana’s smile widened, amusement dancing in her eyes. 

Gwen froze, and knew she would’ve been absolutely mortified for the flaming blush creeping across her skin if it wasn’t for the (blessedly!) dim light. She tried to choke out a laugh, to recognise the joke for what it was (or perhaps wasn’t? She tried not to let herself hope) but ended up making a strange, strangled noise instead.

Morgana didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she gestured for Gwen to come closer.

“Is that my evening gown?” She was looking at the dress in Gwen’s hands.

“Yes, my lady.” It was truly resplendent: smooth lengths of white silk embroidered in thin lines down the bodice and the dipping neckline, then flaring out at the shoulders to make loose sleeves. It cut sharply in at the waistline, and then flowed in swathes to the floor. When Morgana walked in it, it seemed to mold itself to her body, the fabric rippling like water around her waist. It was perfect for her: regal and elegant. Fit for a queen.

Most stunning of all, however, was the black shawl Morgana wore with it. Rich black velvet, imported from Rheged, that fell over her shoulders, it’s edges stitched with diamonds that glittered even in the low candlelight.

“Give it here.” Morgana reached for the dress and took it dress from her hands, pulling it into her lap. Then she stood and held it up against Gwen’s body, head tilted, mouth scrunched up in assessment of something. 

Morgana’s sudden proximity was starting to make Gwen’s chest constrict rather worryingly. “My lady?” she croaked, and then despaired at the sound of her voice. 

“You know what, Gwen?” Morgana’s smile was suddenly beginning to look like a smirk. “I think you’d look amazing in this.”

Gwen’s heart thumped loudly in her chest. “Thank you, my lady.” Morgana hummed, as if in thought.

“I think you should try it on.” 

Gwen suddenly felt like all the air in her body had been suddenly sucked out of her. She went through the words again, one by one. She must’ve misheard. “Sorry?” 

The mischievous glint in Morgana’s eye was reaching truly concerning levels at this point. “You should try it on,” she repeated. 

“M-My lady, I would of course be honoured to but, I just feel that perhaps… it wouldn’t exactly be...” Gwen found herself lost for words. She could hardly remark on such behaviour as inappropriate, considering how freely she acted with Morgana on a daily basis. And if the subtle raise of Morgana’s eyebrows was any indication, she knew it too. Nevertheless, this was new territory, and Gwen had no idea where they’d go from here.

“...The best idea?” she finished lamely. That was the closest to the truth she dared to come. Morgana wasn’t even touching her, but her proximity was already making Gwen sweat nervously. God forbid her come any closer, Gwen wasn’t sure her heart could handle it. Or more importantly, get through it without Morgana noticing her inevitable squirming.

“Don’t be silly Gwen, it’s a wonderful idea. The colour suits you.” And with that, Morgana spun her around and began to unlace her dress, ignoring Gwen’s squawk of surprise. She’d already made her way down most of the bodice by the time Gwen unfroze and began to flap her hands in panic. “Morgana! My lady, you mustn’t feel the need to…”

“I know, Gwen.” Gwen could see Morgana’s smile in the mirror, her face hovering over her shoulder. “Let me do this for you. Please.” 

Gwen’s blush returned with a fury. She said the only words she could think of. “...Thank you, my lady.”

Gwen began to relax into Morgana’s hands, and let the tension bleed out of her body as Morgana’s fingers pulled at the laces and knots, working the bindings apart. She worked surprisingly efficiently, considering the task.

As if Morgana could read her mind, she said, “When I was a child, I often dressed my mother. I loved her gowns. I used to go through her wardrobe and look at her dresses, wishing they would fit me.” A sad smile crossed her lips. “I don’t remember much of her, but I always thought she was the most elegant lady in court. Although I’m fairly sure that wouldn’t have been the case if she hadn’t had a maid re-lace her after I’d scurried off.”

Gwen chuckled. “Knowing you, I’m certain she was.”

Morgana finished with the bodice and began to slide it off. Her fingers slid against Gwen’s shoulders as she tugged the dress down, painfully slowly. Every brush of Morgana’s skin against hers sparked jolts of warmth along her arms, her chest, and when her hands reached the small of her back, she couldn’t help a small shiver. She could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin, and knew they were not from the cold.

Suddenly Morgana’s hands were at her waist, thumbs on her bared skin, fingers pushing at her hips to help the dress slip off. Then Gwen was standing in her underclothes in Morgana’s chambers, and wondering what good deed she’d done in the past week to get here and what god she’d have to give thanks to once this was all over.

And her mind short-circuited completely because Morgana was suddenly leaning in, so much closer than before, her breath warm on Gwen’s neck and ear and whispered, “Beautiful.”

Gwen’s breath hitched; her chest squeezed. Something both hot and shameful was beginning to curl in her belly, and the feeling of Morgana’s breaths ghosting evenly against her skin was starting to make her woozy. Her shiver was far stronger this time. Strong enough that there was no way Morgana hadn’t felt it too. The thought only made the heat beneath her skin burn hotter.

In the mirror, Morgana was staring straight at her. Gwen’s heart hammered in her chest as she carefully turned, shifting around just enough that she could look at Morgana properly, whose gaze quickly moved from the mirror to Gwen. There was a strange look in her eyes, one Gwen didn’t recognise. The air seemed to grow heavy between them. 

The silence was broken only by the sounds of their breathing, Gwen’s chest feeling more strained by the second. Then Morgana blinked, as if suddenly awake, and the moment was over. Morgana cleared her throat, and Gwen looked away.

“Come on, then,” Morgana said. “Let’s get you in this dress.”

Gwen let Morgana shimmy the dress up her legs and hips, then held her arms out to fit into the sleeves. They were made of a translucent material, giving off a pearly, off-white sheen in the light. The material was even softer than she’d expected; she’d only ever felt it against her palms before, and her hands, though nimble, were worker’s hands: calloused and hardened by years of labour. The silk slid against her skin with no resistance, and she twisted her hips a little, just to relish the feel. Morgana finished doing her up and proudly dusted her shoulders off. Finally, she draped the shawl over her shoulders.

“Take a walk,” Morgana suggested, taking a step back at last.

The dress was ill-fitting: too long in the legs, too wide in the shoulders. The sleeves flopped around her arms, giving the impression that she was half-drowned in silvery masses of fabric. Nevertheless, she straightened her back and took a few steps forward, trying to mimic Morgana’s gait. She folded her hands together, sleeves swishing dramatically, and gave her a little mock bow.

Morgana was grinning when she looked back up, and Gwen could feel the smile forming on her own face.

“You look wonderful,” Morgana said. 

“I’m not so sure about that.” Gwen gave herself another once-over in the dressing mirror. The dress sat on her frame awkwardly, emphasizing all her odd angles; nothing like the vision in white Morgana made. 

“Nonsense, Gwen. You look spectacular. The colour suits you well. I would know. I am the fashionista between the two of us, after all.” She smoothed the fabric down over Gwen’s waist, pulling at it speculatively. “It’s not quite your size, of course, but I’m sure we could fix that. Otherwise, you could easily pass for nobility.”

She smiled again. “Or even a queen.” 

Gwen laughed. “I think my clumsiness would give me away almost instantly.”

“Half the ladies I’ve met have half your grace and twice your title. Trust me, Gwen, I certainly wouldn’t be able to tell.”

Gwen bowed again, sincerely this time. “Thank you.” 

“Keep it.” Gwen started in surprise. Morgana continued, “Consider it a gift. We’ll have it tailored to your size, of course. So it’ll be more comfortable. We’ll go to the seamstresses first thing tomorrow, if that’s alright with you.” 

Gwen was still gaping when Morgana gave an expectant look, raising a brow. “That is, of course, my lady. I would be honoured. You are truly too kind.” Gwen hugged her. “Really. Thank you, Morgana.”

Morgana slid her arms around her back. “Anything for you, Gwen. You must know that.”

They stood there for another few moments, hugging, while Gwen’s brain tried to process Morgana’s words. But in the end, she found she would rather just breathe in Morgana’s perfume, sinking into her arms, and wonder if she was maybe hiding a manic smile in the crook of _her _neck, too.

**Author's Note:**

> "Black Velvet" is a song by Alannah Myles.
> 
> The dress is here: http://wheretoget.it/look/1862530


End file.
